A few nights ago at work someone walked up to me and said, “What’s going on?” And I told her I was covered up. She laughed, and said she’d never heard that phrase before. “What phrase?” I asked. “Covered up,” she answered.

What the? Is that regional? Covered up? I never thought about it (I mean, seriously), but it feels like something everybody has said, as long as I’ve been alive. It’s messing with my head now.

I forgot to mention something about the Eels show on Saturday night. I saw a guy there carrying around a battered copy of Things the Grandchildren Should Know, Mark Everett’s memoir. The thing was beat to hell, with post-its sticking out of the pages, like he’d studied it, and pored over every word on a mountaintop somewhere. And he was carrying it pressed to his chest, in a very affected manner.

What a fantastic, fully-realized douche. Why did he have the book with him, other than to impress people? “I am more emotionally invested in this band than you are…” I wanted to trip him, but he was outside my tripping radius.

The book is great, though. Even if you’re not familiar with the band or their music. Check it out, if you’re so inclined.

I was getting an oil change last week, and it took approximately 20% longer than my inner-sensors approximated. And as I sat there, waiting with great impatience, I watched a parade of derelicts come through that place. Pep Boys: cheap, but a powerful white trash magnet.

I saw a scary, hardened old hag, with a bourbon and cigarette voice and one tooth on the bottom, come trudging in. She was — needless to say — bitching about some perceived injustice. People like that are perpetually outraged about something.

She was a standard-issue trailer park matriarch, roughly 60 years old, with a pronounced death rattle in her voice. But she had a mild-mannered black man with her. I’d say he was 30? I’m not sure, but I couldn’t figure out what was going on. The combination didn’t make sense to me. Know what I mean?

I walked around the store, to get away from that loser petting zoo, and the whole place is full of automobile accessories for people with horrible, horrible taste. Redneck license plate holders… skull shaped gear shifter knob… air freshener shaped like a crown… press-on letters bedazzled with fake diamonds… <Sigh>

We had a falling-out (is that regional?) with the garage that did all our car work for more than a decade. And now here I am… adrift. I’m seriously thinking about going back. That hour made me sad in my soul. And who needs it? I’m thinking about letting bygones be bygones.

I was talking to my mother on Sunday morning, our weekly “So, how are things going?” call. And she kept carrying on a conversation with my dad. It was irritating. I’d be in the middle of telling her something, and she’d say, “John, can you hand me my coffee?” Or something similar.

Um, I was in mid-sentence. I know I’m no Jean Shepherd, but could you maybe wait until I get to a period, or at least a comma, before interrupting me? And it didn’t happen just once. She continued talking to him, while also talking with me. It was annoying.

Finally, I said, “You wanna talk to the boys? My phone is about to die.” That’s always a good excuse, right?

And for a Question, I’d like to know what bugs you when you’re talking to someone on the phone. What do people do that gets on you last nerve? Please tell us about it in the comments.

And I’m going to eat a couple of hotdogs with cole slaw (regional?), and hit the Devil’s Parkway. Two more nights, and I’m free! Workin’ for the weekend.

I’ve mentioned before that I think all high school boys (and possibly girls) should take some auto repair courses at a local community college. After that, you can do almost any repair on your car with a repair manual, a floor jack, some jack stands, a few screw drivers, and a socket set.

And I’ve never heard the phrase “covered up”… I don’t think it’s regional either, because I’ve lived in Pennsylvania and Atlanta.

And no clue on the young black guy with Ms. Daisy. Maybe he’s her biographer?

Apparently covered up is regional but it extends to western Ohio. I use it frequently, although usually it’s a lie so I don’t get extra work I don’t need. A few years back I was working on a job site that was staffed by people primarily from North Carolina and I learned all sorts of new regional terms, instead of covered up, you were bowed up, instead can you meet me at point A it was can you get up with me at point A.

Speaking of rock and roll douchery… what douche bucket brings a 7 year old to a Who concert? And I don’t know about Canada, but around here, those tickets were too expensive to bring a second grader to:

Separate from the money, Emily Post provides for exemptions for really good guitarists who wrote “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” He gets to tell the entire world to fuck off, including kings, princes and little princesses.

I hate it when the person I’m on the phone with is eating. And it’s always something like Doritos or carrots…that constant crunching in my ear. I’ve told my brother to call me back when he’s finished with his snack or meal. I don’t compete with food via phone.

I’ve heard people use “covered up” all my life. I find nothing unusual about that phrase. I might add that “covered up” is totally different from “covering up”. Jeff will get my drift on that one.

I’ve never heard of “covered up” at this end of PA. Does it mean “all balled up” or “all fucked up”? Please advise…

I’m with madz…someone who is eating or chewing on the other end of the phone is annoying as hell. You can’t stop shoveling food into your dicklicker for 5 minutes? The same also holds true for chewing gum…especially cracking and popping bubbles. That’s the WORST!

Oh…the other totally annoying issue I have is “listening to the music while your party is reached” bullshit. Then the Barney theme song, or some shit, plays for the duration until the phone is answered or the voice mail starts. I hang up immediately.

Ms. Trailer Trash is a cougar. Hence, the 30 year old. She likes ’em young.

My mom drives me nuts. She calls me nightly (????), we live 7 houses away from each other and every other line ends with “You know what I mean?” It drives me batshit crazy. Lately I’ve just wanted to ignore all the calls from everyone (but that would be mean, so I don’t) and sit in my shell of shit-wallowing. It’s just been one of those years, so far.

It drives me crazy when people (my in laws) use speaker phone so you get boring and inane in stereo. Although I just might have cured them of it a few weeks ago. I thought I was speaking with my husband privately, and I unloaded on him about how much they pissed me off. And they heard every word. Turns out they dialed our number and held the phone in his direction so he could “ask” me if they could interfere in our life further.

I’m guessing the black guy was the baby daddy of some of her progeny. If she was 60 it’s probably a great-great- grand young’un.

I’ve heard “covered up.” I’m in the South. When I worked in California I would entertain my coworkers with Southern phrases. They particularly liked “useless as tits on a boar” and “eat up” (as in, he’s just eat up with poison ivy, never seen it so bad.).

As for the mild-mannered black man with the trailer hag, that’s very very common where I’m from in Texas. Most old men that I knew had a black guy like that that went everywhere with them. They always had nicknames too, “Squirt” and “Tom Tom” come to mind. Most of them lived with the older people. How they met or how the black guys ended up living with old white people was always a mystery to me. There was almost a slave type relationship feel to it all. Very odd.

I can’t stand when people take way too long to respond on the phone. The fuck are you doing? Picking out a baby name or deciding if you want to go to the lake? Get on with it. Jesus.

I hate talking to my brother on the phone when he is talking to his kids. You called me, either talk to me or them.

Honestly though, I hate talking on the phone.

Never heard covered up but get it. I hate the phrase called out, as in called out sick.
Anything my ex said annoyed me. She uses a lot of british sayings, her grandma is british and I think her mom is too but she’s never been there, it’s obnoxious.

This JUST happened ot me at work (cglobal ompany with over 20,000 employees…)

(ring ring) “Good Afternoon, Madz speaking, may I help you?)

(caller) “Hi it’s me”

OK, I can tell who the fuck ME is out of the 400 people I interact with daily? This isn’t a voice recognition position. It wasn’t til the pronounced lisp that I got who “Me” was. A thecretary who should know better.

I live not too far from Jeff and never heard covered up..my mom is always talking to other people while she is on the phone with me, be it at home talking to my brother or on her lunch break. I have to hear her entire lunch order and wait while she pays and shit. It drives me nuts. My father actually calls me while he is on the bowl..I will call him and he answers and I say hey whats up? What are you doing? And he goes, im on the toilet..ewww why do you even answer the phone?? Why is the phone in there with you??

My greatest pet peeve here in the south is the utter refusal to add an “s” to the word “cent”. Cent is only “s” free when there is only ONE. It tears me up to hear someone announce that they ‘only paid ninety nine CENT’ for something.

Also have never heard the phrase “covered up”. I learned something new today.

Biggest pet peeve about the phone is when you answer and the first thing the person says, usually in an accusatory or demanding tone, “Who’s this?!?”
Hey, fuck you, man, you called me. Who the fuck is THIS?

Long story short—I would not buy a bottle of windshield washer fluid from PepBoys if they were the only store in a 50 mile radius. I seem to remember their head office was in Philadelphia from the letter I wrote to them about their local outlet more than 18 years ago–very poor repair service.

I don’t have pet peeves, I have major psychotic effing hatreds!
Anyhow, computer illiterate calls me for help, I say “hey what’s up” first thing out of his mouth, “hold on a minute”. This has happened several times, and not just with me. Slaw dogs, nice.

If somebody told me he was covered up, I would take that mean he was not nekkid. Which should not need mentioning in a face-to-face conversation, and is rather odd regardless.

Hot dogs with coleslaw must be a regional thing. To me, a hot dog needs mustard and chopped onions. Only.

Phone irritation is when the other person is obviously not paying attention, like looking at something on the computer. Or at work, when a service tech calls and the conversation ends up running six hours.

I have a friend who peed while on the phone all the time! Once I was at a party at his house, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom and his brother said, “Oh, you’re going to the bathroom? Don’t you have somebody you need to call while you’re in there?” He hasn’t done it since. He said he didn’t know we could hear him. Now if we could just get him to stop eating, drinking, and taking call waiting calls.